It was a crushing defeat. The battle waged for months. Blow after blow she was invincible. My knowledge was worthless and my strength was not enough to push the envelope and conquer ground. Maybe it was that I didn’t truly want it. Maybe it was too late. I knew I should have been more patient while I waited for my mind, my soul, my sinews and muscles and guts to adapt to the crushing blows she wielded upon me. My armor stood the test of time against her hot breath and prevented her claws from tearing me to shreds. The wisdom of my masters guided me this far, but what was to come of it? Was my effort for naught?
Her backhand threw me, like a bug, against the rock wall of her dungeon as the glimmer of her treasure sparkled in the light of her flames. Like an unborn baby in its womb, my scutum deflected her hot breath and glowing a fiery orange – the heat penetrated my muscles and burned my soul. Out of breath I charged, but deep down inside I knew I had given up already. My knees began to buckle…

I came at her too slow – I had grown tired of the months of battle. My body did not fail, the Iron Dragon had beaten my will and my nerves gave out before it mattered. She paused at my hesitation, seeing the glazed glimmer of hopelessness, and pulled her strike just enough not to slaughter me with ease. My now soft scorching hot scutum thrown asunder, my grip dropped my sword as I hit the ground pressed under her right claw. Her left pinky claw ripped my heavy plate armor from my weary body leaving me naked. She drew her face close and let me look deep into her black Iron eye. I think I thought I saw…what was it?

I had lost the battle unable to make progress and win even one coin of her treasure, but she did not strike the killing blow. Rather her tail whipped with delight and it was if she almost smiled.

She took me and threw my limp body in an empty room within her cave. I was across from her pile of treasure. It may as well have been garbage and a thousand leagues adrift the stars. She imprisoned me there in that small carved rock room. With a snort of her left nostril the rocks melted downward to the ground forming bars to cage me like a pathetic animal. The months passed and I was fed the scraps from her table. She would eat goblins and orcs and trolls by sucking the meat and fat from their bones and spitting the remains within reach of my room. Why did she feed me? The bones turned soft and the internal organs cooked – this is what I ate.

During those months my body ached for the Iron – the pain was unbearable – my mind, my will, my soul seared without the Iron to wield…

When I escaped I did not even attempt to touch the treasure of the Iron Dragon. It did not matter anymore. The pain of no Iron had stripped my warriorhood from me. I was not worthy. I could not take it without winning it from her – to take it now was to cheat myself, my masters, and the Dragon herself.

I imagine my masters knew what she was up to when she imprisoned me. They always knew of my empty handed return before I lost that battle. They knew I would not perish at the will of the Dragon. It is not her way. She did what was necessary for her future.